Enter The Fray
by AliceJericho
Summary: It doesn't matter how many times society has beaten her down, Darcy Quinn will rise above. After all, what's more fun than proving people wrong? Dean Ambrose/OC
1. Permanently at Square One

**a/n: So I'm following the trend and putting up my Dean Ambrose story. It's definitely going to have romance in it, but I want it to be known that primarily this is about Darcy Quinn and her road to proving people wrong. Her relationships definitely play into that and they're important parts, so no need to be disappointed!**

**Please head on over to _thestories-ofagirl_ on tumblr (there is a link on my profile) to see Darcy's information and the other things I will put up regarding her.**

**Please take some time to leave a review - criticism is not only welcomed, it's allowed.**

**I only own Darcy Quinn at this point in time. This story is set in 2012, it begins in May when FCW was still WWE developmental.**

* * *

_Permanently at Square One_

* * *

Darcy Quinn ventured out the fire exit of the FCW building, mindlessly heading in the direction of her safe place. The secluded corner had become her place of solitude since being signed to a developmental contract, hidden away from the world and prying eyes.

As she walked towards her spot, she saw two feet, crossed at the ankles, poking out from behind the wall. The realisation that someone else knew of her secret almost made her search the outside of the building to find somewhere else to smoke and be free.

"You just gonna stand there or are you gonna to join me?" She had only ever heard the voice in passing and on television; it had always sent a chill down her spine. Smoke appeared, seemingly out of thin air, from head height.

Darcy pushed her shoulders back and, as confidently as she could, walked up to her space, stepping over the outstretched legs of Jon Moxley and leaning against the stone adjacent to him. Cigarette smoke filled her nostrils, she could taste it in her mouth, and she craved one of her own even more than before.

She patted down the pockets of her pants, digging into the left one for a packet of cigarettes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Moxley looking down at her, watching her as she drew one out of the box. Placing it in her mouth, she repeated the process of patting down her pockets this time to find her lighter.

"Fuck sake," she grumbled to herself, the sound muffled as she tried to keep the cigarette between her lips. Before she could even ask, a hand appeared in her face and flicked a lighter, a flame dancing in the wind before her eyes. "Thanks."

"Harlequin?" He drew her attention with the use of her old ring name. She had never used it in an actual match but it had become part of her. A few appearances at Ring of Honor as a devout fan of The Briscoe Brothers gave her a certain amount of exposure. Despite that, she shook her head and finally looked up at him.

"Darcy's fine," she corrected him, as she became intimidated by his imposing stature. He stood over a foot taller than her and had more than 100 pounds on her. He could easily have snapped her body in two. Averting her eyes to the wind beaten trees, she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Moxley?" she knew that he had been going by Dean Ambrose since he had been signed but she held the name Moxley dear to her heart, a reminder that the best started on the independent circuit.

"Sure." Goosebumps broke out on Darcy's skin, a combination of the bitterly cold breeze and the roughness of his voice. "You Graves' girl?"

The question didn't confuse her nor did it shock her. Corey Graves, or Matt Polinskey as she called him, was one of few friends she had in FCW and the assumption was often made that they were closer than they let on.

"Not his girl, no." The implication being that she did have a boyfriend and the tone of her voice letting him know that the issue should not be pressed.

Nothing else was said; Darcy and Moxley smoked their cigarettes in silence. Every so often Darcy would look to him discretely thinking that she should probably try to make a new friend. It was no use, though. Darcy felt like an outsider even with all of the diverse personalities FCW had to offer. Not one person would truly understand her.

It did not surprise her at all when five minutes later Moxley dropped the last of his cigarette, grinding it into the concrete and without a word he turned his back on her and walked back towards the fire exit.

Darcy's only regret was that she hadn't asked for his lighter.

* * *

When she stepped back into the building, cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes and breathe, she took note of the quieting laughter. At 14 her uncle had told her she sucked all of the happiness out of a room, 8 years later she still had that ability.

She made sure to hold her head high knowing that hanging her head could have been seen as a sign of fear. She had been on the receiving end of worse hazing at Ring of Honor's Wrestling Academy. The super models and pretty boys giving her evil eyes were the least intimidating thing she'd ever been subjected to.

What she didn't understand was that they were still doing the same thing 6 months after she'd been signed.

"Darcy that better not be you smelling like a damn ashtray." Like a deer caught in the headlights, Darcy's eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up dramatically. She turned to Tom Prichard slowly and wearily. Few people scared her, he was one of them.

"I thought I was finished for the day, sir," she responded cautiously hating that everyone around had turned to look at them.

"And what made you think that?"

"It's 2.30 and you told me I was in from 9 until 2?" It came out as a question because she knew better than to argue outright with her trainers. Tom stared at her and just from the look in his eyes she knew what was coming next.

"Suicides." Darcy sighed in frustration, rubbing hands over her face roughly. Tom pointed at the section dedicated to such drills and Darcy marched over obediently, pulling her coat off as she went. "Five minutes. Go."

Darcy did her best to ignore everyone who was watching her. They all got some sick satisfaction out of seeing her in pain so she wasn't going to show any. She was going to run.

She had barely done three sprints when Tom spoke again, is voice bellowing over the quiet whispers of the observers. He wasn't speaking to her, though.

"Ambrose! I can smell that smoke from over here." He pointed towards Darcy. "You're going to join Miss Quinn."

Darcy felt Moxley's presence when she returned to the starting line and was unusually comforted when he started to run the second she did.

"Let this be a reminder to everyone that if you want to smoke you do it on your _own_ time. You do not do it near my building; you do not do it during my time. Stop."

Moxley and Darcy halted at the starting line. Darcy could feel her lungs starting to hurt but she stood up straight, resisting the urge to bend over and wheeze. Moxley didn't seem to be having the same problem, he looked absolutely fine. Darcy stole quick glance at the people watching her, they all looked delighted to see her running suicides.

They were told to start again. Darcy was always a few steps behind Ambrose – his legs were longer than hers and she convinced herself that that was the reason – and by the time Prichard told them to stop again he had lapped her.

He looked at her, noticing the dramatic heaving of her chest and the masses of sweat beading on her forward.

"You okay?" he asked her under his breath, making sure no one else could hear.

"Fine," she responded in the same manner. She felt like she was going to vomit up a lung and she just wanted the five minutes to be over.

"Again!"

At the next break, Darcy quickly pulled off her sweatpants; they were weighing her down and causing her to heat up. Someone wolf whistled when she stripped down to her shorts and revealed a large crow surrounded by red poppies on her right thigh. She didn't look up to see who it was; she kept her eyes on the end line.

The last one began and Darcy could feel her stomach churning, she knew she was ready to vomit but she couldn't stop. Stopping would mean having to run again. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably, adding to the need to vomit, and Moxley was still running laps around her.

"You're done. Darcy, you are now finished for the day. Do not light up until you are _at least_ 300 yards away from this building."

She couldn't respond verbally but she nodded. With one quick motion she picked up her sweatpants and her bag and ran back to the fire exit. Three steps outside and she vomited against the wall. The movement caused her to start coughing as well, leading to a horrendous mixture of both.

She could feel her heart and lungs trying to crawl out of her chest, wanting to get away from the pain she was in.

When the door opened a few minutes later Darcy half expected to see Moxley smirking at her, telling her that she was weak and wouldn't last much longer if she reacted to suicides that way. She was much relieved to see Seth Rollins looking down at her.

"Damn, Harlequin." In any other situation he would have dropped down beside her but the pool of vomit kept him on his feet.

"I feel so gross, Colby."

"I know but you should put your pants on at least. Probably shouldn't show anyone anything else."

She obeyed and slowly pulled her sweatpants on, taking care not to step in her own vomit. She was breathing less erratically and felt that she had nothing less to spew up so she moved to another wall. The door opened again, both she and Colby turned, seeing Matt walk out carrying a bottle of water.

"Thought you might need this." He handed it to her, kneeling down in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. "I think we should move you out tomorrow, what do you say? You can just rest tonight."

"I'm not broken," she grumbled, swatting his hands away. She drank half the bottle of water in one shot.

"No, but you're exhausted and need rest," Matt told her sternly. "Ashley's offered to drive you home, okay?"

Darcy groaned but knew she was in no position to argue. She pushed herself up, using the other half of the water bottle to clear away her vomit. Colby held the door open for her, handing her bag as she passed.

"I have to get back, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks, Colby," Darcy said with a small smile. Matt followed her to the front of the building here Ashley Miller – Audrey Marie – was waiting for her patiently. "You don't have to do this."

"It's fine, I was on my way home, anyway," Ashley assured the blonde. "You aren't going to vomit in my car, are you?"

"I think I got it all out," Darcy grimaced slightly, the taste of vomit still lingering around in her mouth.

She followed Ashley to her car after saying goodbye to Matt. She was thankful she had someone to take her home – saving her the half an hour walk back to Matt's house. She wasn't entirely sure she would have made it. Ashley had proven to be her only female friend at FCW. She was the only person not entirely put off by Darcy's anti-social attitude.

"You did well to not give up," Ashley commented, the sound of her car starting bringing Darcy out of her thoughts.

"Running alongside Moxley makes it pretty damn impossible to give up. Besides, no one would let me live it down."

"Everyone's shocked. You looked green long before you stopped. I'm surprised you didn't vomit all over Jon." Darcy laughed at Ashley and relaxed back into the seat.

"Who whistled at me?"

"Bo Dallas. Can't believe he was the only one, most of them have a teenage boy's mentality."

"Good to know I can feel like utter shit and still get that reaction," Darcy smirked to herself.

"You took your pants off, those boys were looking at your ass and legs not how green you were."

The short drive ended with Ashley telling Darcy to look after herself as they stopped outside Matt's house. Darcy had been sleeping on his couch since she moved to Florida in November, right after being signed to a developmental contract. The plan was to move her out of Matt's and into Colby's that day but neither man thought it was a good idea to move her if she was feeling unwell.

She let herself into the apartment, throwing her gym bag to the side and moving to the couch, flopping down onto it instantly.

"Fuck me."

* * *

**All the thanks in the world to _cherrybomb13_ for helping me with the title and the summary and just Darcy in general! This wouldn't have been put up if I hadn't been talking to about it for so long! :)**


	2. Was It Something That I Said?

**a/n: Thank you for the great response! 5 reviews, 5 faves and 15 follows just from the first chapter is pretty mad. This here is the second chapter! :D Eternal thanks to _cherrybomb13_ for her input :)**

**Also, I feel like I should just let everyone know that Darcy as a character isn't going to be nice or perfect. She's not politically correct, she's not entirely sure how to socialise with the majority of people so she'll say inappropriate comments. She is a character, she does not necessarily reflect my stance on anything.**

* * *

_Was It Something That I Said?_

* * *

The process of moving Darcy out of Matt's and into Colby's involved Darcy cramming her clothes into a large suitcase, putting anything else into an overnight bag and folding up a sheet and blanket. When all of that and her pillow were thrown into the car, she was ready to go.

After a good night's rest she felt infinitely better. She was never concerned about how her legs would feel – she was no stranger to leg work outs.

"How long are you going to stay with Colby?" Matt asked as he pulled out of the driveway, ready to drive her the two blocks to her new temporary home.

"Until I find something I can afford. But that could take another six months. Hopefully I won't be there that long. I can't imagine Leighla will be too happy if I'm there for six months."

"She's cool with you staying, right?" Matt asked quickly, looking at Darcy with an unsure expression. "Colby didn't just decide without talking to her?"

"No, of course she's cool. For like a month." Matt nodded his head as he pulled into Colby's driveway. "They have a futon, though. So bonus."

They laughed, Darcy's quite half hearted. She had hoped to find a place within a month of moving to Florida but seven months later she had had no luck. Everything was either out of her budget or too far away from FCW – and without a car it was important to be within walking distance.

Matt beeped his horn, letting Colby and Leighla know that their new houseguest had arrived. The corners of Darcy's lips twitched as she saw the couple walk out of the house. Their relationship always made her crave that sort of love. That sort of happiness.

After saying their greetings, everyone helped move Darcy's few belongings into the house. It was nice and well decorated – Darcy did somewhat wonder if they had cleaned just for her. They put her things into the study, hiding them away from plain sight just as she had done at Matt's house. She was well aware that people did not want to see her suitcase when they walked into someone's living room. She dropped her sheets in there as well, ready to get them later in the evening.

"How are you feeling, Darcy? Colb said you didn't go so well yesterday," Leighla asked kindly.

"No, I'm fine. Just not exactly used to running a near solid five minutes of suicides. Especially when I'm already dehydrated and just had a smoke."

"Your fault for being dehydrated," Colby said, throwing her a water bottle. "Smoking, too."

"Hasn't killed me yet," Darcy retorted automatically.

"Yeah, yet," Colby mumbled.

Sudden realisation came over Darcy when they were eating lunch – three of her four Floridian friends were sitting in the room with her. The most concerning part was that she didn't seem to care one bit.

Darcy slipped outside when Matt was leaving so that she could say goodbye as well as have a cigarette. She had no problem sitting on the grass and watching the cars go past as she smoked, taking in her new neighbours.

The weather was much the same as the day before, 85 degrees and not cooling down any time soon. She was already sick of the heat and summer hadn't even started yet. It was something she'd struggled with since moving to Florida – compared to her hometown of Croydon, Pennsylvania, Tampa was always too hot. Winter had been a killer for her because Tampa's average low was still 30 degrees warmer than Philedelphia's average high.

She didn't last long sitting outside, opting to go back into the air-conditioned house after only one cigarette because she could feel herself getting burnt. She put out her cigarette in the ashtray she'd brought outside with her, tipped it into the garbage can and made her way back inside.

"I'm going grocery shopping, did you need anything?" Leighla asked with her bag over her shoulder and car keys in her hand.

"Uh, yeah, I do. I'll come with though, if that's okay? I tend to buy my own stuff. Honest, you'll barely even know I'm living with you."

The drive to the store was quiet except for the odd conversational topic about the weather and the stupid idiot who cut them off. Darcy enjoyed the quiet, having grown up with screaming and general noisiness she welcomed it.

"What did you mean before when you said I'd barely know you were living with us?" Leighla asked as she pushed a shopping cart down the first aisle.

"I tend to not hang around much. I know it's annoying that I'm living with you, so I don't really make myself known until I need a place to sleep."

"You know you're welcome, Darcy. You don't need to make yourself scarce."

"Colby said that, but it's what I've always done," Darcy smiled at Leighla to let her know what she was saying was appreciated. "I just don't like being in anyone's way."

Darcy made the decision to get her own cart so that she could keep her things separate. The store was busy than either woman had anticipated so they were there much longer than they would have liked.

As they were leaving, Darcy groaned upon seeing Moxley walking towards her.

"Fancy seeing you here," Leighla greeted the FCW superstar with a warm smile and a gentle hug.

"I need food, too, and today's my day off," he answered with a shrug before turning his attention to Darcy. "How's it going, Darcy? You okay after what Tom did yesterday?"

"I'm fine," she responded shortly. Her reaction was mainly out of embarrassment but also partially because he was acting like they were friends.

"Alright then," he half laughed at her reaction to him. He looked back to Leighla. "It was great seeing you. I think it's boys' night at your place tomorrow."

"That's why I have all of this," she motioned to the full shopping cart with a brief grimace. Darcy stood back, resting on her own cart as Moxley and Leighla chatted for a few moments. She tried to refrain from making impatient noises because she didn't want Leighla to regret letting her sleep on their couch.

"I'll see you around, Darcy," Moxley said as he began to walk into the store and Leighla pushed away.

"Yeah, bye." She said flippantly, following Leighla to the car. "Guys' night? Really?"

"Yeah, a few of the FCW guys get together once a week and drink and talk shit. Matt usually comes along."

"That would be where he disappeared to. And here I was accusing him of a secret girlfriend when it was actually just a cock fest." Leighla burst into laughter at the casualness of Darcy's voice as she finished her sentence.

"I'm going to enjoy having you around."

"Yeah, I hope so."

* * *

That night after Colby and Leighla had retreated to their bedroom, Darcy took the opportunity to set up her own bed. She dragged her things from the study and set up the futon. She sat on the edge of it and checked her phone before she decided to finally go to bed.

It took her far too long to get to sleep. New houses never made her feel comfortable but it was necessary to move around so much in order to avoid someone coming to hate her. That had never actually happened but she knew that when she lived with her boyfriend in Pennsylvania that she was beginning to get on his nerves.

The thought sent her mind to Pennsylvania and to Harry. She thought about calling him that afternoon but time got away from her and she had been too busy to actually do it, so she vowed it would be done first thing in the morning. She didn't feel particularly guilty for not calling him – it wasn't like he called her – nor did she miss him enough for it to plague her. Her relationship with Harry just _was_.

The sound of cars passing by on the streets outside kept her awake. Darcy had always been a light sleeper. For years she had been getting through her days with only a few hours sleep and her body had adapted to it. She knew that, if she ever got the opportunity, travelling with the WWE wouldn't be a shock to her system at all.

Darcy eventually fell asleep almost two hours after she'd tried to but an ambulance siren down the street woke her up shortly after and she stirred for another hour before finally dozing off into what proved to be a terrible sleep.

At 6 o'clock when Colby woke up to go to the gym, Darcy was wide awake and sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Corn Flakes. She had woken up for good at 5.30 and put away her bedding so it looked like she hadn't even lied down. She'd already finished one cigarette.

"You're up early," Colby said as he walked past her, pulling his iPod off the bench.

"The early bird catches the worm," she responded without hesitation. Colby nodded at her once before running out the door.

Colby came back half an hour later and Leighla woke up at 7 so she could get ready for work. Darcy sat on the couch with the television on but she paid it no attention, instead watching the couple go about their daily routine. Darcy had never had routine. Routine scared her.

"You ready to go, Harelquin?" Colby asked, picking up his gym bag and gesturing to the front door. Darcy pushed herself up and turned off the television. Her gym bag was sitting on the floor beside her so she grabbed the strap and followed Colby out to his car. "You gonna want a lift home?"

"I'll probably just walk."

"What are you going to do when we all move to NXT? Gonna walk to Orlando?"

"I'll have to move in with someone closer to the performance centre, won't I?"

Darcy was unsure of what she would do when the performance centre opened. She knew that Colby would happily drive her to and from but she knew that he had been spoken to about being called up to the main roster so she was worried about what would happen then.

Tom Prichard watched Darcy closely as she walked into the FCW building, no doubt trying to work out if she had been smoking. She held her head high, though, because she had done nothing wrong.

Rumours had been running rampant that Tom was going to be replaced by Bill DeMott but nothing could be confirmed so no one was ready to give up on Tom for fear of punishment.

"You okay, Darcy?"

"Perfect, Tom!" she called back, hurrying to put her bag down and get into the ring. "I'm ready for whatever you want to throw at me."

"Run the ropes, go."

She did as she was told, climbing into the ring and hitting the ropes instantly.

_1, 2, 3 – pivot, lean, bounce, repeat._

Again, Darcy amassed an audience. It confused her as to why everyone found it so fascinating to watch her train. She assumed they were waiting for her to screw up.

"Hit the mat!" Darcy did as she was told, dropping to the mat. "Ropes!" she pushed herself up, running the ropes again.

_1, 2, 3 – pivot, lean, bounce, repeat._

"Leap frog!" Darcy jumped as high as she could, did a toe touch and dropped to the ground, continuing to run the ropes. Her past as a cheerleader came into handy sometimes. "Twice more and stop."

When she finished, she exited the ring and took the water bottle offered to her by Colby.

"Well, Harlequin, I think you've made yourself an enemy."

"I hope he's gone by the end of the month." There were rumours going through FCW that the head trainer was going to be replaced, Darcy was waiting for confirmation.

"If you pray extra hard you might get what you wish for, babe," Moxley said as he walked past. Darcy rolled her eyes and turned around to look at him.

"I didn't ask you, Moxley," Darcy barked at him.

"We could be friends, Darcy," he said to her, cocking his head to the side. "We have a lot in common."

"Oh yeah, like what?" she asked, turning around her glaring at him. She figured that her short stature made her as intimidating to him as a puppy but she tried her hardest.

"I've heard that you're childhood wasn't great."

"Are both your parents dead, Moxley?" Darcy asked, sounding like she was already over him. She didn't seem to care that her parents were dead. She needed to be training, not arguing.

"My dad's a dead_beat_," he offered with a smirk. He was purposely razzing her up.

"Oh, look, we don't have anything in common. Goodbye." She turned away from him and walked towards the weights where Ashley was watching them curiously. Colby stepped out of her way and looked at Moxley in confusion.

"Man, I have to live with her," he groaned. "Can you not do that?"

"I'll see you tonight, Darcy!" Moxley called out, ignoring his friend. Darcy gritted her teeth at the memory of Colby having the guys over.

"Go fuck yourself!"


	3. Take You One Day at a Time

**a/n thanks to _LadyEvil21_ and _ILoveAnime89_ for their reviews and to those who added this story to their favourites/alerts :D  
**

**Ambrose will be referred to as Moxley/Mox until a later chapter in which Darcy will start to call him by his first name.**

* * *

_Take You One Day at a Time_

* * *

The porch light came on and Darcy jumped back, dramatically putting her arms up as if she was about to karate chop something. Ashley snorted at the reaction and pushed Darcy towards the porch steps.

"I'm drunk, aren't I?" Darcy asked, following Leighla up the stairs. She tried to, at least. She tripped on the very first step.

"Just a bit," Leighla laughed, offering the small blonde her hand. Darcy staggered to her feet and used the rail to support herself. "The guys will still be here."

"Ew, boys," Darcy said childishly. Ashley pushed her again, causing her to trip up the next step. Darcy shrugged it off and ran up the next three, falling through the door when she crashed into it just as Leighla pushed it open. She exclaimed from the floor, "I win!"

"Should we feed her? I feel like she hasn't eaten enough for the amount that she drank," Leighla fretted, watching Darcy clamber to her feet and run through to the living room.

"She could eat a horse and it wouldn't do anything. She's so tiny that she's always going to act like this." Ashley explained, following her friend with an amused smile.

It was entirely unsurprising to her to see Darcy splayed out across the three men – Matt, Chris Spradlin and Moxley – sitting on the couch.

"We're sitting here, Darcy," Matt said, shoving Darcy's feet lightly.

"This is where I sleep," she mumbled into Moxley's leg. She evidently had no idea who she was lying across. "Do you know what I had to do all night? I had to keep telling those two over there that it isn't right to talk about how hot you guys are all the time. Like, you're people too. You deserve respect."

"Really now?" Colby laughed.

"Oh yeah, they were talking about how hot Matt's tattoos are and how amazing Joe's voice is and how pretty Colby's smile is and how nice Hero's hair is and the _size of Moxley's arms_." Darcy's eyes widened at the thought and she rolled over to stare up at the ceiling but she was distracted by something. "Your arms are fucking huge."

She reached her arm up to try and wrap a hand around Moxley's bicep and when she failed, she used the other as well and smiled proudly to herself – even if they didn't meet on the other side.

"You hate me," Moxley said with the same smirk as earlier in the day.

"I hate a lot of people." She was still smiling as she spoke.

Everyone chose to ignore her after that but she didn't mind, she just continued to stare at the ceiling and listened in on the conversation happening around her. The alcohol in her system made her so drowsy that she felt herself falling asleep a few times but each time the chatter brought her back.

* * *

Darcy woke up at 7.30 Saturday morning. She had no bedding to pack up – she hadn't bothered to set it up, choosing to sleep on the plain couch – so she went straight out onto the front lawn for a smoke.

She had a pounding headache and a queasy stomach caused by the excessive consumption of alcohol the night prior. Coffee and a cigarette would help it calm down and she should be fine by lunch time.

She generally slept better with alcohol flowing through her system. It helped knock her out again almost instantly no matter how many times she woke up during the night.

She hadn't called Harry yesterday morning. She woke up too early and he wouldn't like getting a phone call before eight. After eight she was already at FCW training. She would call him later in the day when he was less likely to be asleep. But before he was likely to be drinking.

She took one last drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke out of her mouth in circles. Quitting was on her list of things to do. The mental list she had that consisted of the things people told her she'd never be able to do. She just didn't put it too high on the list.

Just like the morning before, Darcy was sitting at the counter eating her Corn Flakes when Colby came out of his bedroom. He was wearing only his boxers and she wondered if he had forgotten she was living with him or if he just didn't care.

"Morning," she said with a mouth filled with cereal. "Sleep well?"

"Fuck it, Harlequin," He swore, turning to look at her. "I forgot you were here. What are you doing up so early?"

"The early bird-"

"Catches the worm. Yeah, I remember. You feeling okay after last night?"

"Nothing a cigarette, this coffee and cereal can't fix." She assured him, putting another spoonful into her mouth.

"Want to come for a run this morning then? If you're so convinced you have a magic cure."

Darcy grunted, "Who willingly does cardio? It's so gross."

"That explains your reaction to suicides," Colby put down a bowl in front of her and poured some muesli into it followed by the milk. He then took a seat beside her. He didn't seem to mind that he was in his boxers. He wore less in the ring.

"Suicides should be made illegal. They are not fun and they do not help."

"They help a lot, actually. They're good for those moments when you might need to run for a bit."

"My ring technique does not involve much running." Darcy pushed her bowl away.

"It should," Colby stated. "You're so damn small that you should be agile. You're a cheerleader for god's sake."

"_Was_ a cheerleader," Darcy corrected him. She pushed her chair away from the table. "What I don't want to be is another WWE Diva who goes into the ring and dances and uses their past as a dancer or cheerleader to form their move set. I want to be Darcy Quinn the wrestler. Not Darcy Quinn former cheerleader."

"Darcy Quinn, rebel without a cause is what you are," Colby said casually, eating his muesli.

"I'd say there's a cause. Quite a few actually. The first being the fact that I was born addicted to crystal meth and nicotine."

Colby didn't respond to what she said. He'd heard it before and never knew what to say. Rumours about her being a drug addict flew around ROH. People assumed it was why she was secretive, why she was so unwilling to make friends. Adam Cole managed to crack her, though, and she slowly began to let people in – finally putting an end to the drugs rumours. That all changed when she came down to FCW, she closed up again.

* * *

"Hey babe."

"Harry, hi," Darcy smiled into her phone, her right hand holding a cigarette by her knee. She was sitting, again, on the front lawn just before sunset. She had finally decided to call her boyfriend.

"Haven't heard from you in awhile."

"I know, I'm sorry," Darcy apologised but she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips. It had been too long since she heard his voice and it made her feel like walking on water. "I moved in with Colby and Leighla."

"Good. How long were you at Matt's?"

"Too long." Darcy took a drag of her cigarette and watched the smoke disappear into the air. "Are you going to come visit soon?"

"I'd love to, babe, but work's not going to good at the moment," Harry revealed to her in a gruff voice.

"You should have said something. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Nothing you can do to help, Darcy." She sighed at him, taking another drag. "You getting any matches down there?"

"Not yet but Tom's been talking about it."

"Let me know when it happens, babe, and I'll get down there as soon as I can."

"I'll hold you to that," Darcy smiled into the phone and imagined her boyfriend doing the same.

"I've gotta go, babe. Call me soon, yeah?"

"Of course. I love you, Harry."

"You too, Darc."

The dial tone sounded in her ear and Darcy ended the call. She pocketed her phone and watched the street from the front steps of Colby's house. She stamped the end of her cigarette into the ground and sat in silence for a few minutes.

Leighla's car came into view and Darcy stood up. She waited for Leighla to reach the front door before she went inside.

"Forget your key?"

"No, I'm just thinking."

"Smoking?"

Darcy nodded before adding, "Calling Harry."

"You miss him?" Leighla asked, pushing the door open with her shoulder, still looking at Darcy.

"Sometimes, I suppose... I guess I'm slowly getting used to being so far away. It's getting gradually easier."

"You should go visit him, if he can't come down here," Leighla suggested to her friend. Darcy shrugged.

"I have done, but I'm saving up for a house and right now that means no flights."

Leighla frowned slightly at her but let it go, everyone had learnt that Darcy was stubborn and they didn't bother fighting her.

Darcy disappeared into the study, searched through her suitcase before taking her clothes into the bathroom. She showered quickly and dressed, electing to let her hair dry naturally.

"You going out?" Leighla asked, noticing that Darcy was slightly more dressed up than usual; she was wearing jeans and a nice leather jacket. In contrast to her usual ripped jeans and baggy cropped shirt, this was almost formal.

"Thought I'd hit up the bar," Darcy answered as she put her clothes into the dirty laundry basket.

"Two nights in a row? You're brave."

Darcy ventured back into the bathroom to put some light make-up on, hiding the pimple that had been developing on her chin and the bags underneath her eyes. Insomnia took its toll on her appearance but she tried her best to own it.

"Hair of the dog," Darcy eventually responded, dropping her bag onto the kitchen table. "Wanna come?"

"I think I'm good," Leighla denied. "You looking to hook up, or?"

"We _just_ talked about Harry, remember?" Leighla laughed at Darcy and shrugged. "But maybe," Darcy joked, running back into the bathroom one last time to check how her hair was drying.

"You look great; now go before all the good booze is gone."

* * *

Darcy was three drinks in and already feeling the alcohol in her head. She was sitting right at the bar, ignoring the passes being made at her and the men across the bar eyeing her up. All she wanted was a few drinks, admittedly she probably shouldn't have gone alone but looking like an alcoholic didn't bother her all that much.

"Is this seat free or has it been reserved for one of your many friends?"

"I'd prefer it if you sat somewhere else."

"I want to sit here, so too bad." Darcy rolled her eyes as Moxley sat on the stool beside her. "What are you drinking?"

"Your blood," Darcy answered without hesitation. "Mixed with your tears."

"It's a great mix," Moxley responded without a beat. He looked at the bartender who was blatantly staring at them, "One of whatever _that_ is."

Darcy followed the bartender as he went about making another gin and tonic. She knew that Moxley was looking at her, probably trying to work out why she was sitting all alone in a bar.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed a drink," Moxley responded, handing over some money for his drink. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Darcy asked, swivelling her seat slightly so she could look at him.

"Come the end of the month, Prichard is _gone_. DeMott's coming in."

"That's next week," Darcy worked out. "That was quick."

"No one's sure if he wants to be going or if they fired him. You sure you want DeMott?" Moxley asked, finally drinking his drink. He raised an eyebrow. "G and t, unexpected."

"I want anyone who isn't Prichard," Darcy finished her drink quickly and asked for a beer. "He hates me."

"He's testing you," Moxley corrected her. He span his chair around so he was facing the rest of the bar, he took note of all the men glaring at him. "I think everyone's a bit jealous."

"He treats me like shit, why would anyone be jealous?" Darcy said in confusion. Moxley span her chair around for her. He rested his arm on the bar behind her just to see everyone glare at him more. "Oh."

"Give me a kiss, really rile 'em up," Moxley suggested, pointing to his cheek. Darcy looked up at him, his shit eating grin was enough to make her stand up and walk away. "Don't be like that, babe!"

Darcy groaned in disgust, grabbed her beer and bag and walked outside. A few guys tried to grab onto her and make her sit with them, telling her that she was too good for the sleaze at the bar. She laughed in their faces.

She found a seat outside in a corner away from the loud ruckus inside. The first thing she did was fish through her bag for her cigarettes. The instant relief when she inhaled was enough for her to calm down slightly.

She noticed the men around her looking at her and then back inside to see if Moxley was going to follow her out. One made the decision to stand up and started to make his way over to her, only to have a hand appear on the centre of his chest and push him back down.

"You can't just leave me alone?" Darcy groaned as Moxley walked towards her, beer in hand. He had the same grin on his face as when she had left him in the bar.

Wordlessly he sat down opposite her, effectively blocking her from everyone's view, and pulled out his own cigarettes. Darcy watched him light up and was momentarily taken back by how he looked when he was smoking.

"You should probably pretend we're together or you're going to have to put up with those creeps all night."

"I have a boyfriend."

"And they think it's me. Just go with it." Moxley took a drink from his beer.

"I basically look like a 12 year old boy, why would they even want anything to do with me?" Darcy all but sighed. She rarely pulled the 'woe is me' act but sometimes it was impossible to hold back her thoughts.

"Believe me; you look nothing like a 12 year old boy." Moxley watched as she raised an eyebrow before giving herself a quick once over.

"I'm about the same height as one," she began to list. "My haircut is pretty boy-ish. I have a distinct lack of curves – I'm only wearing a bra today because this shirt sometimes rides up. Most of the time I don't even have to wear one. Have you seen these?" Darcy asked, framing her breasts with her hands. "Probably not because they're so fucking small."

"Believe me, babe. If you looked like a 12 year old boy you wouldn't have been hired." Moxley took a drag of his cigarette as he eyed her up and down. Darcy should have felt uncomfortable with his eyes roaming over her body. She didn't though. If any of the other men in the bar were blatantly checking her out right in front her she would have yelled at them and probably swung a punch, with Moxley it didn't seem so disturbing. "I thought you hated me. You seem to be quite happy sitting there right now."

"You're more tolerable when I'm drinking."

"I get that a lot."

* * *

**a/n _cherrybomb13_ hasn't read this chapter... Maggie, if you're out there, let me know that you're still around :)**


	4. I Might As Well Give Up

**a/n as always thank you for the reviews! _UntilNeverDawns, LadyEvil21, ILoveAnime89 _and _cherrybomb13_ are the best people in the world! I don't think I have anything mighty important to say this time around... Other than to thank Maggie for her help and I am eternally indebted to you!**

* * *

_I Might As Well Give Up_

* * *

Darcy locked up with Ashley in the middle of an FCW ring; Norman Smiley was standing in the corner watching the girls, ready to call them out if they did something wrong.

"Darcy, if you don't tuck your chin in more when you're taking a back bump you're going to get concussion or even do something worse," he sighed at her, watching the small woman roll over onto her stomach and slam her fists onto the mat. "How long have you been doing this?"

Darcy pushed herself to her feet and stood in front of Norman. "18 months."

"You've learnt how to take a back bump?"

"I thought I had, but clearly not," she groaned to herself. She tugged at the hair at the back of her neck. "I can take every other bump perfectly but the thought of dropping onto my back freaks me the fuck out."

Norman nodded in a form of silent understanding and gestured for her to try again. Ashley ran at the ropes, Darcy standing in the middle of the ring, and ran at her opponent. Her shoulder connected with Darcy's but instead of dropping directly onto her back like she was supposed to, Darcy landed on her ass.

"Now I'm over thinking it." She made no attempt to get to her feet; instead she slammed her back into the mat. Admittedly it wasn't as effective as taking them from her feet, but she was trying.

Norman and Ashley let her go for a few minutes before she sucked in a deep breath and stood up, only to drop to her back seconds later.

"Better," Norman told her from the corner. "You don't seem to have much of a problem when you're dropping yourself. It's just when you have to work with someone else."

"Which is the entire point of the business," she sighed. "Let's just keep going." She got in the position to lock up again but Norman's hand on her shoulder let her know that it was time for her break.

"What goes through your mind when you have to fall backwards?"

"That I'm going to hit the back of my head on the mat. I know that if I tuck in my chin that won't happen but I quite like my head the way it is," she grimaced as an image of the back of her head bleeding profusely entered her mind. "If I have to land on my side or front I'm fine."

"That's usually how it goes but back bumps are important so we're going to work it out."

She was sent away to get a drink and stretch out some more and as soon as she rolled out of the ring she saw Jon Moxley walking into the building. He nodded his head at her in greeting and she gave a half-hearted smile back. He changed his direction and lumbered over to her.

"Moxley."

"What's eating you?" he asked her, dropping his bag to the floor.

"What do you mean?" She shot back defensively, standing up a bit straighter. Moxley smirked at down at her.

"You got that look on your face."

"And what's that?" She barked at him.

"Angry," he answered casually. "You look like you fucked up and you don't know how to fix it."

Darcy looked up at him, her face softening slightly. "How'd you know that?"

"You aren't as hard to read as you'd think."

Darcy shook her head, surprised by how well he thought he knew her. She took a step back so she didn't have to crane her neck so much to look at him. She sighed, unable to believe she was telling him, "Back bumps."

"Back bumps?" he asked with a laugh only to stop the second he noticed Darcy's glare. "Why? They're one of the first things you learn."

"Why?" She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed slightly. "Because the idea of knocking myself out isn't something I like to think about." Her hand went to the back of her head again and she grimaced at the idea.

"Yeah, but why?" Moxley asked her and she pulled a face at him.

"I don't want to knock myself out," she repeated angrily, "Are you deaf or stupid?"

"Neither," he grated. "There's a reason you're scared of them, you wouldn't have made it here if you never learnt how to do a back bump. Something happened and now you're scared," he concluded, watching her face contort when she realised he was right. "Tell me so I can figure out how to help."

"You aren't the first person to try," she pulled her lip ring into her mouth.

Moxley, for the first time, took note of just how many piercings she had; the lip ring on the right side of her mouth, the nose ring on the left side of her nose and the eyebrow piercing in her left eyebrow. Because her hair was so short he could see the industrial piercing in her right ear and the tragus and helix piercings in her left, all to accompany the two sets of lobe piercings she also had in each ear.

He had to catch himself before he began wondering if she was hiding any underneath her clothes.

"Lay it on me," he said in a gruff voice. He mentally kicked himself for the effect the thought had had on him.

Darcy looked at him sceptically but upon seeing a previously unnoticed caring in his eyes, she began to talk. "I'd been there four, five months – at ROH. I was doing great; I had an understanding of everything and could take a basic bump," she added pointedly, not wanting him to think she had always been afraid. "A new kid – Owen – came in, he'd just turned 18. He left high school and decided he was going to be the best. Was convinced he was invincible." Moxley breathed out a laugh; he'd met many similar people. "He took every bump harder than he should, to prove he was tough enough and I guess to prove he could sell?" Darcy pulled a face in confusion, even a year later she still didn't know how to describe Owen. "I don't even know. One day he was doing drills with Link and – Link's a _huge_ guy – Owen tells Link to give it his all. Shoulder block, just like Ashley's doing to me. Link runs at Owen, Owen decides he's going to throw himself backwards as hard as he can... Guess what he forgot to do?"

"Tuck his chin," Moxley supplied in a low voice, Darcy nodded gravely.

"Knocked himself out cold. It was brutal. The sight and the sound. I haven't been able to do it properly since. He was out for almost 10 minutes before he came to, but then he couldn't remember where he was. Grade three concussion and he did it to himself. Never wrestled again."

Darcy tugged her lip ring into her mouth again and held the back of her head as the sound resonated in her ears. She remembered it far better than she wanted to.

"Right, I see why you're nervous," Moxley said in understanding.

"Of all the things that have happened in my life, that's the one that fucks me up the most. Typical, right?" she sighed at herself, both for the effect it had had on her and for telling Moxley all of it.

"I get that seeing that sort of thing hurts you. Fuck, he didn't come back – that'd throw anyone off," Moxley exhaled deeply. "I've seen some fucked up shit but it hasn't stopped me from getting the job done."

"You've also been doing this a whole lot longer than I have," Darcy was quick to defend herself.

"How old are you?" he asked her. She stepped backwards again and raised her eyebrows. "I'm not making a pass," he snapped at her. "I'm trying to work something out."

"I'm 22," she told him begrudgingly, suck in a deep breath and puffing out her chest. She was never going to be able to intimidate him – but she could try.

"I was 23 when I had my first CZW match. That shit fucks you up."

"Yeah well that's your fault," Darcy retorted disinterestedly. She didn't understand – nor care – why he was telling her. It wasn't helping her.

"I'm just letting you know that you're gonna walk away with scars, mental and physical in wrestling. You just have to get over it. Now come with me, we're going to fix you."

Darcy laughed loudly and sarcastically, "yeah good luck with that."

She rolled into the ring, leaning against the opposite ropes as Moxley stood on the apron, talking quietly to Norman. She looked to Ashley and shrugged when Ashley pointed to the conversation.

Norman gave Moxley the go ahead – whatever he said – and before Darcy knew what was happening, the two men were running shoulder block drills. Ashley and Darcy shared a confused look when they repeated it over and over again.

"How is this going to help me?" She asked with a bite, "_Watching_ you two run drills while I stand back and do nothing. Genius idea, Moxley. You've really outdone yourself." Darcy snapped at him and rolled under the bottom rope – she had no problem taking a bump to her side; she had her arms to protect her.

"We're desensitising you," he drawled, causing her to turn back around and glance up at him. "If you see it happen enough times where no one gets hurt... Anyway, the plan is to get that other image out of your mind."

"So I have to think of you every time I do a back bump?" Darcy added sarcastically, "Fantastic. Exactly what I fucking want."

Despite her attitude, she crossed her arms on the apron and rested her head on them, watching them. She did so for almost five minutes. Just continuous shoulder blocks by Norman with Moxley dropping to the ground – his chin tucked in. Halfway through, she moved from outside the ring to sit cross legged in the corner. The back of his head barely touched the mat.

They stopped the drills and Moxley gestured for her and Ashley to give it a shot. She wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

Standing in the middle of the ring, Darcy took a deep breath and gave Ashley a go ahead nod. Ashley's shoulder connected with hers and she fell backwards. She didn't land on her ass but cleanly on her back – she had remembered to keep her chin tucked in.

"Fixed it," Moxley said with a knowing smirk on his face. "I'm just that good."

"I was going to thank you," Darcy said through gritted teeth as she got to her feet. "But if you're going to be a prick about it."

"No need to thank me, babe. I'm just happy to know that I fixed a little part of your fucked up brain."

"You don't even know the _start_ of my fucked up brain," Darcy growled at him. If she were tall enough she would get in his face, but she had to settle for a menacing glare from a few feet away. He exited the ring, still smirking. She watched him walk away but couldn't stop herself from calling him back. "Hey, Mox! It's a nipple ring. Right one."

He turned back around; a confused but interested look on his face, pretending he had no idea what she was talking about. "Thanks for the info but I didn't ask."

"You had that look on your face."

* * *

**a/n I wrote a Moxley circa 2009 one shot titled _The Love You Think You Deserve_, so you should definitely go check that out, it's a sort of sequel to this story and Anna will get a mention in a later chapter :) and of course you can go check out thestories-ofagirl over on tumblr for all info related to Darcy. If it was to get off the ground and people were interested enough, I might start posting little snippets of story as a little preview.**


	5. This Is All In My Head

_This Is All In My Head_

* * *

Darcy trudged down the hall to the main offices. She had been called into Steve Keirn's office and was both nervous and excited. The President of FCW didn't often call people into his office, most of the time people made meetings to see him, and Darcy couldn't think of a bad reason he would want to see her.

It was after her training session, her hair was still damp from her shower and she didn't look like she should be meeting with the President but business casual was not something had lying around in her suitcase. Keirn never seemed to mind when his talent walked into his office in their workout clothes, anyway.

After a light knock on the door she was let in. Dusty Rhodes, Tom Prichard and Norman Smiley all sat in seats around Keirn's desk, one seat left for Darcy.

"Miss Quinn, please have a seat." The FCW Diva did as she was told, dropping her bag just beside the door and sitting in between Norman and Dusty and looking straight at Keirn. "I called you in here because I wanted to talk to you about your debut."

"Debut?" Darcy asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"We think you're ready, so we'd like you to be part of future NXT tapings." Darcy almost fell out of her seat.

"You're serious? I'm going to get to wrestle? An actual match? In front of a crowd?" She asked quickly, turning to look at the others in the room. "Yeah, please!"

Dusty laughed at her enthusiasm before he began to speak about their plan for her. "We're thinking of starting you in a program with Audrey Marie because you're close outside the ring and have already proven that you can work together."

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'm so ready for this."

"We know," Keirn smiled at her warmly. She was the happiest he'd ever seen her and it was good to know that she was capable of positive emotions. "You'll have a meeting with Dusty and Canyon at the beginning of next week, Ashley will be there, and you'll spit ball some ideas."

"Sounds fantastic. Thank you so much," Darcy beamed, standing to her feet. She shook everyone's hands before picking her bag up off the floor and leaving his office.

There was a skip in her step as she walked down the hall, the looks from people she passed highlighted how strange her actions were.

"Who died?" Darcy didn't even roll her eyes as normal when she heard Moxley's voice. He dropped into step beside her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're happy," he noted, looking down at her quizzically. "Figured someone must have died to make you smile so hard." She looked at him, the smile still on her face. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before."

"I try not to make a habit of it," she responded disinterestedly.

"So, why you smiling now then?" She stopped walking and turned to face him, he did the same.

"Not that your hot shot WWE ass is going to care, but I'm going to be on NXT."

"I think I deserve a thank you," Moxley stated seriously, crossing his arms over his chest.

"For what?" Darcy asked, her mood quickly changing. "For being nothing but a pain in my ass every time we're together? Yeah, thanks a lot."

"For helping you with back bumps," he seemed unperturbed by her scowl. "Three days after I help you get over them you're being told you'll finally debut."

"Coincidence," Darcy spat at him, continuing her walk to the entrance.

"Where are you going now?" he dropped back into step with her. "You need a ride somewhere?"

"I'm going to walk to Matt's," she revealed.

"Walk? Because you want to or because you don't want to get into a car with me?" he asked causing her to roll her eyes.

"Combination of both, really." Darcy's answer was quick and instinctive, something she had to tap into where Moxley was concerned. "I want to walk."

"Fine," he said, pushing the door and holding it open for her. A smirk played on his lips, "But if you ever need a ride anywhere, I'm just a phone call away."

"Didn't think we were at that point in our friendship."

"For me to drive you places?"

"For me to have your phone number."

They reached Moxley's car, he stopped but Darcy continued walking, not even looking back over her shoulder.

He made no attempt to call out after her, he just drove past her. She started to smile again, the thought of finally debuting made her happier than she could ever remember being.

It was one step closer to her goal. She had only begun training as a wrestler when one of her boyfriend's friends told her she'd never make it. Being 5'2 and weighing 90 pounds soaking wet meant that a lot of people didn't believe she would ever be able to do it. Darcy always liked proving people wrong.

* * *

"All I'm saying is that Prichard can't _hate_ me if he's letting me wrestle," Darcy said, nursing a bottle of cider in front of her, half a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

"He might not have had a say in it with DeMott being brought in and everything."

"So you heard that, too? It's not just Moxley reeling off bullshit?" She lifted the bottle to her mouth and watched Matt over it, watching confusion come over his face.

"Since when do you speak to Jon?" He questioned.

"I'm pretty sure he's stalking me," she answered. "I don't know, he just pops up every now and then and we talk."

"Right."

Darcy and Matt were sitting on his back decking and she had just told him that she was being called up. He expressed how proud he was of her that she deserved the opportunity. He'd known her for quite awhile – he had frequented the tattoo parlour she worked in when she was in high school – and was glad she was getting somewhere.

"What's for dinner?" Darcy looked at Matt, taking a drag of her cigarette. "Because I am _starved_."

"Then go home and have dinner," he told her pointedly. "You don't live with me anymore."

"But you're still my friend," she scowled. "I can't go back for a few hours because Colby said something about 'alone time' and that means they're fucking."

"Should have thought of that before you moved in with the happy couple." He laughed when she pouted at him, "What do you want to eat?"

"Something edible."

"No, sorry, I don't have anything like that," Matt said seriously, walking back into his house. Darcy stared at the door, alternating between her beer and her cigarette, waiting for Matt to come back outside.

When he did so he was holding up frozen pizza in one hand and a steak in the other, "Or we can do takeout."

"I vote takeout," Darcy responded, laughing at him. Of course he didn't have anything in the house.

* * *

It was close to midnight when Darcy finally returned to Colby's house. All of the lights were off and the door double bolted.

She let herself in, walking carefully and quietly as to not wake up her friends. She was unsurprised when she saw their shirts lying on the floor near their bedroom door. She kicked them with her boot, pushing them out of her way before she dropped onto the couch.

She was still over the moon after her meeting with Keirn. She'd been working her ass off for a year and a half, training 6 of 7 days a week so that she could make a name for herself in the ring. She was more than excited to know that she was finally going to get an actual match.

Darcy stood up again and went about the nightly routine of changing into her pyjamas and setting up her couch bed.

As usual she stared up at the ceiling for almost two hours before she finally went to sleep, only to be woken up an hour and a half later by a car coming up the street. She couldn't remember the last time she slept through the night. It had been years, probably before she was even a teenager. She'd been offered sleeping pills by her doctor but had rejected them knowing all too well that she'd become addicted and dependent. With both of her parents being addicted to too many drugs to name, the last thing Darcy wanted to do was head in the same direction. She was already verging on an alcoholic and her addiction to nicotine was more than likely going to send her to an early grave.

Darcy was awake long before Leighla stepped out of the bedroom just after 8. She looked at Leighla as she stepped onto the tiled kitchen floor, spooning Corn Flakes into her mouth.

"Have fun last night?" Darcy asked casually, watching as Leighla faltered slightly. "We're both adults here, no need to hide that you fuck your boyfriend."

"They told me you were blunt," Leighla laughed lightly. "But yes, I had a lot of fun last night. Thanks for, you know, coming home late."

"Thanks for not fucking when I'm here," Darcy said back with a small smile. "You can tell me to fuck off whenever. I'm not going to be offended if you don't want me around."

"It's fine," Leighla assured her. "I've hardly even noticed that you're here."

Darcy finished her cereal in silence.

Colby walked out of the bedroom shortly after, his hair all over the place and a goofy grin on his face. He walked up and stood directly behind Leighla as she poured milk into her bowl.

Darcy snorted at the blatant display of horniness – he had started to kiss her neck – causing Colby to jump out of his skin. The glare she received from her friend caused her to shrug her shoulders at him.

"What? Take notice of your surroundings, Lopez."

"You should shut your eyes, Quinn. This is too much for your baby eyes." He went back to kissing his girlfriend's neck, making a point to be much more aggressive about it. Leighla was swatting at him half-heartedly.

"My 22 year old 'baby eyes' have seen more of that than you could even _begin_ to imagine," she retorted, moving to put her dishes into the dishwasher. "That is harmless."

* * *

**a/n: I had every intention of updating this sooner... But I didn't :/ sorry guys! _UntilNeverDawns_ is totally fabulous for reviewing. Where did the rest of you guys go? Do I have to barter with you x amount of reviews = a new chapter? I don't want to be that person.**


	6. Stop Holding Your Tongue

**a/n in honour of The Shield's win!**

* * *

_Stop Holding Your Tongue_

* * *

The sound of weights dropped heavily – a deep thud onto the mats – caused Darcy to lift her head and look quizzically in that direction.

"You shouldn't be lifting all that weight without a spotter," Darcy scolded Moxley as he reached for his water bottle.

"You should mind your own fucking business."

"_Wonnernaus_," Darcy mumbled under breath, putting down her dumbbells and turning to Moxley. "You're gonna hurt yourself. No way known could I lift that off you."

"Good thing I'm not going to drop it." Moxley leant back onto the bench and put his hands into position to lift up the barbell. "Don't watch if you're going to worry."

She didn't stay to watch him hurt himself, but she did tell Matt what Moxley was doing – just in case.

Ashley was sitting in the locker room, towel drying her hair, when Darcy walked in. They exchanged a smile and exaggerated sigh before Darcy pulled up a chair and sat opposite her.

"I think Moxley's going to kill himself," she stated casually. Ashley raised her left eyebrow sceptically. "He's lifting upwards of 400 pounds."

"He's a strong guy," Ashley breathed out a laugh. "He'll be fine."

"Not with as many reps as he was doing," Darcy said, searching through her gym bag. Ashley didn't say anything in response, causing Darcy to look up at her friend expectantly. The wide smile on Ashley's face made Darcy sit up straight and ask worriedly, "What?"

"You care for him," Ashley concluded excitedly, still grinning at Darcy. The blonde huffed and drew her mouth into a thin line, glaring at the other woman. "What?"

"I have a boyfriend," Darcy said through gritted teeth, going back to searching through her bag.

"I said you care for him, not that you want to jump his bones," Ashley defended herself. "Calm down. Jesus."

"Nobody cares for Jon Moxley," Darcy deadpanned, finally standing up – body wash in hand. She disappeared into the showers, a towel and fresh change of clothes under her arm.

As she showered, she caught herself thinking back to Moxley only to immediately change her thoughts to her impending debut. She wasn't even bothered about having to wait for NXT to start airing, August was still two months away but Tom Prichard was only head trainer for another 48 hours and she was only minutes away from having her first meeting with creative.

Jon Moxley was the least important thing in her life right now. And she couldn't get him out of her mind.

"Darcy, you gotta hurry up or we're going to be late!" Ashley called out.

"For the 20 second walk to Dusty's office?" Darcy laughed over the running water. "I'm done, anyway."

Darcy dried off quickly, pulled on her black panties and put on her nicest pair of jeans and a tank top that read 'let them eat cake' – it was the only clean thing she could fine that didn't have holes cut into it. She shook her hair out with her fingers, pushing it out of her eyes when it flopped forward and walked back into the locker room. Ashley stood at the door while Darcy shoved everything into her gym bag and quickly pulled on some socks and her Doc Marten boots

The walk to Dusty Rhodes' office didn't even take the 20 seconds Darcy had predicted, but the door was open and both girls were ushered inside immediately.

Darcy was overwhelmed by everything she was being told and all the questions being asked. Everything about her few appearances in Ring of Honor had been decided entirely by Delirious. From her ring name, to her character, to what she would wear – none of it had been up to her.

The small taste of freedom Dusty was giving her was making Darcy's head spin.

"If we wanted to call you 'Honey'?" Dusty asked, causing Darcy to laugh so hard her stomach began to hurt.

"I have a huge tattoo and 9 visible piercings," she reminded him once her breath returned to her. "No one is going to believe that my name is _'Honey'_."

"Irony, Miss Quinn." Canyon Ceman spoke up; his eyes subconsciously looking at all of her piercings.

"I'm going to be 100 percent honest with you, here," Darcy said, an undertone of laughter still in her voice. "If you call me _Honey_ or anything else like that, I promise you I will turn my character into a whore and proposition _every single wrestler_ on the roster. On air."

"What do you suggest, then, Darcy?" Dusty asked her, unable to hide his smile. She was a firecracker, she knew what she wanted. You had to in the company or you'd become chicken feed.

"Here's a wild idea, _Darcy_, maybe? Harley, perhaps? I'd even go for Quinn. Something that doesn't make me out to be a Diva."

"You are a Diva," Ashley reminded her, thumping Darcy's thigh with the back of her hand.

"I don't look like one; I don't act like one... Why should I be named like one?"

She sent a pointed look in the direction of NXT's Creative Director and watched as he made some notes. He told her that she would most likely just go by _Darcy_ and she genuinely smiled at him.

Discussion soon turned to a potential storyline for the Divas with Audrey Marie as a face and Darcy her adversary. It didn't at all surprise her that Audrey would be getting the first wins or that Darcy was going to be booked as having small dog syndrome and that her bark would definitely be worse than her bite.

Darcy wasn't particularly saddened or surprised to hear their plans for her, she'd expected as much. It was never good to hear that you'd be losing matches but just knowing that she was going to wrestle in front of a real crowd made her happy.

"I think that's all for today, unless either of you had any questions?" Dusty leant backwards in his chair, looking between the two women. Neither of them had any questions and said their thank yous and goodbyes to Dusty and Canyon before making their exit.

Ashley blindsided Darcy with a tight hug, causing the blonde to tense up quickly and cringe.

"It's a fucking hug," Ashley rolled her eye, pulling away. She pushed Darcy sidewards, "I wasn't trying to suffocate you."

"A little warning would be nice."

Saraya was tying up her shoelaces and looked up when they entered the locker room to get their bags. She smiled and nodded in greeting, Ashley waved briefly and Darcy smiled tightly.

There had been some tension between the two; they were signed by the company at the same time and Darcy had become extremely jealous that Saraya had been put on FCW shows so quickly. There was the understanding that Saraya had _years_ of wrestling experience on Darcy, but none of that could prevent Darcy's resentment.

Ashley had promised to drive Darcy back to Colby's house, so they made their way through the building towards the car park, Darcy's hands holding the cigarette packet in her pocket. She hadn't been abiding to Prichard's 300 yard rule ever since she found out he had limited time with the company. She planned on lighting up the second she stepped outside the building.

"Honestly, you're smiling too much. It's creeping me out."

"You're compliments are one of a kind, Moxley."

Ashley looked between Darcy and Moxley, basically waiting for a screaming match. It never came. Darcy put a cigarette into her mouth and pulled out her lighter, moments later she exhaled a puff of white smoke. Moxley basically followed suit, a tired smile on his face.

"Yeah, I didn't pick you as one to follow the rules," Moxley said absentmindedly, following the two girls as they walked to Ashley's car.

"Rules are no fun," Darcy told him. He made a noise to signify his agreement.

Moxley didn't stop to say goodbye when the girls reached the car, he just kept walking towards his. Darcy didn't seem to even realise as she opened the door and dropped into the passenger's seat. Dropping her cigarette butt onto the concrete and stamping it out quickly.

Ashley, however, scrunched up her face in confusion.

"You are the weirdest people I've ever met," she told Darcy honestly, getting into the car.

"I'm one person, I didn't randomly grow another body," Darcy retorted, looking at her friend pointedly.

"You and Jon. Are you guys friends or not?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? Sometimes?" Darcy offered, clearly not knowing the answer herself. "We talk."

"You guys should fuck," Ashley says offhandedly, putting the car into reverse and backing out of the parking space.

Darcy slugged the brunette across her arm, muttering that she had a boyfriend. There was no doubt in Darcy's mind that Ashley was going to bring up her thought any chance she got. She was not looking forward to it.

The drive to Colby's house ended with Ashley winking at her friend as she got out of the car. Lugging her gym bag out of the car, Darcy did not hesitate to flip the bird.

She let herself inside knowing that Leighla would not yet be home from work but that Colby had already finished his session for the day.

"It's just me!" she called out when she heard Colby moving around. "No need to get excited."

"Good day?"

"You could say that," Darcy let her bag drop onto the couch before she walked into the kitchen where Colby was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. "What about you? Rumours are _flying_."

"For now they're just that," he told her pointedly. She got the hint that she wasn't allowed to push any further and rolled her eyes. "Rumours are going around about you."

"You hear that I told Dusty Rhodes I'd turn my character into a prostitute if he named me '_Honey'_?"

"No, but I'll be sure to tell everyone about it." Darcy couldn't help but smile at Colby and how serious he sounded. "You told Harry yet?"

"I did when I had the meeting last week. He said he'll _try_ to make it down but he doesn't know when." Darcy's smile dropped at the thought. Harry had never been able to actually see her wrestle and she was beginning to wonder if he ever would. She quickly changed the topic and pulled out her Corn Flakes, "DeMott's coming in, what do you think?"

"Dr Tom was great to work with, but it'll be good to have a change." Colby pushed his seat back and walked into the kitchen, ruffling up Darcy's hair. "I'm sure you're happy to get rid of him."

Darcy viciously swatted his hand away and responded, "I might miss the bastard, I don't know yet. Depends how much DeMott hates me."

"Might want to work on that attitude problem you have, then." Darcy scowled at Colby, only proving his point.

"I do everything I'm told to do."

"But you argue first," Colby told her. Darcy sighed loudly and pulled herself up to sit on the bench. "If you just did what you were told without getting snarky there'd be no reason for them to hate you."

Darcy rolled her eyes and groaned, "It's how I learn. I need to know _why_ I'm doing things. What's the point of me running the ropes for forever and a day if I don't know what I've done wrong?"

Colby laughed, "Ask DeMott. I'm sure he'll be happy to tell you as he makes you run more."

"You're going to have too much fun. You aren't allowed to be around when I speak to DeMott."

"You've got yourself a new shadow, Harlequin," Colby ruffled her hair. She knew that he was joking around with her, but that didn't stop her from shoving him when he walked by her.

* * *

**a/n Thanks to _UntilNeverDawns_ and _DamnedDiva_ for reviewing! I'm going to be honest with you guys; I have the next 6 chapters of this ready to post... But I am withholding the next until I get more reviews... Maybe 5 this chapter? Or you'll have to wait 2 weeks.**

**Don't forget to visit thestories-ofagirl on Tumblr for all story stuff including bios, outfits & playlists!**


	7. No One Gets To Push Me Around

_No One Gets To Push Me Around_

* * *

Bill DeMott was officially the head trainer of FCW and Darcy couldn't have been happier. He was going around speaking individually to all of the talent, getting to know them before he officially started his work.

He stopped Darcy in the middle of her attack of the punching bag, getting her attention by clearing his throat beside her. Darcy knew, without even having to look, that everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to her. She took a deep breath and turned to DeMott with a sour smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Quinn."

"It's an honour." She wiped her hand on her shorts before extending it to DeMott who shook it slowly.

"I've heard mixed things about you."

"More bad than good, probably." She was only half-joking, knowing all too well that Prichard would have told his successor all about her bad habits.

"I have to meet the rest of this misfit bunch but I'd like to have a meeting with you this afternoon."

"That sounds good," Darcy deadpanned. "Might as well fire me here on the spot." Over DeMott's head she saw Conor O'Brian trying to listen to the conversation. No time was wasted in flipping him the bird.

"Is there a problem?" Darcy shook her head vehemently and sighed when DeMott turned around to see Conor still watching them. When he turned back to Darcy he was no longer smiling at her. "I'm not going to fire you. I just want to talk to you about a few things."

"I guess I can do that," Darcy shrugged at him, chewing on the inside of her lip to keep from shouting at Conor.

"You're set to work with Smiley until half past 3, correct?" Darcy nodded at the new trainer, clenching and unclenching her fists, ready to get back to the punching bag. "Then I'll see you at four in my office, give you a chance to cool down and clean up."

She shot him a tight lipped smile and returned to using the punching bag, picturing Conor's face. There was no denying that it made her more aggressive, her punches becoming faster and much harder. Ashley took notice of her rise in anger and paused in the middle of her stretches just to watch and make sure the small blonde didn't hurt herself.

* * *

Darcy stood outside Bill DeMott's office and stared at the door in contemplation. He told her he wouldn't be firing her, but she wasn't sure she believed him. Once again she was wearing jeans and a tank top – why ruin her streak of wearing inappropriate attire for meetings? Given that she was definitely not expecting to be called into an office, her jeans had holes in the knees and her black shirt had 'holy shit' written across in it in huge white letters. She made a point to zip up her jacket.

With a heavy knock on the door, Darcy exhaled deeply. Moments later she was called inside and she opened the door to see DeMott sitting at his desk, no one else in sight.

"Are you sure I'm not about to be fired?"

"That's not my area," DeMott answered, setting his reading glasses beside his laptop. "If you get called into Keirn's office that's when you need to be worried. Have a seat." She did as she was told, dropping down into a chair opposite him. Slouching immediately, it did not cross her mind that it was disrespectful. "I felt that we needed more than a quick introduction."

"My reputation precedes me, I'm sure of it."

"You'd be right in saying that, Miss Quinn. But I'm not here to talk about your attitude; I'm here to talk to you about wrestling." Darcy sat up a little straighter upon hearing that she wasn't about to be reprimanded. "I've watched some tapes."

"I have tapes?" she asked in confusion, she'd never even had a match.

"Only a couple and they're not the best I've ever seen." He paused before continuing honestly, "Actually, they're amongst the worst."

"Good to know," Darcy deadpanned, staring at him disinterestedly. "I was brought here for a reason; they obviously think I can do something."

"I think they were expecting a cheerleader, Miss Quinn." DeMott sat forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk.

"Call me Darcy," she said through gritted teeth. Miss Quinn sounded too pretentious.

"Darcy," DeMott repeated with a nod. "As I said, they were expecting a cheerleader with finesse, grace and athleticism. Not the train wreck that happens whenever you enter a ring."

"I don't want to be a cheerleader, _sir_," Darcy retorted, putting on her serious face.

"You were a cheerleader for the-"

"Philedelphia Eagles," she cut him off without hesitation. "I'm aware; I was there for 2 years. But I'm a wrestler now. I left cheer because I wanted to become a wrestler."

DeMott nodded in understanding, "Plenty of the Divas have a history in cheerleading or dancing. They use it to their advantage."

Darcy stood up abruptly, "Are you deaf? _I don't want to be a cheerleader._" She raked a hand over her face and sighed in frustration. "I know very well that I'm not a good wrestler. I get told all the goddamn time, but I'm improving. No one here started out perfect – especially not the cheerleaders and dancers." She could feel her nostrils flaring.

DeMott, much to her surprise, smiled at her, "I respect that, Darcy."

"What? Are you _high_ or just bipolar?" she demanded to know, clenching her fists at her sides. "What's with the complete fucking 180?"

"Wanted to see if the woman stood up to the myth," he told her without hesitation, standing up to extend his hand. "We'll start working on everything – including your attitude – when you come in tomorrow."

Darcy wordlessly shook his hand, her breathing heavy and frustrated. Confusion was coursing through her mind but there was no way she was going to let him see it. She couldn't wrap her head around how quickly he had changed his approach. It was clear to her that he had been trying to get her angry, to rile her up and it annoyed her in how quickly he had succeeded.

Exiting the office quickly, she was still huffing when she picked up her bag and started walking to the main entrance.

"It's 80 degrees out, what's with the zipped up leather jacket?"

Darcy turned to Moxley and unzipped her jacket, shrugging it off her shoulders. "I had a meeting with DeMott."

Moxley laughed, noticing the text. "Good idea. What was the meeting about?"

"He wanted to tell me how terrible I was in the ring."

"Right," Moxley said hesitantly, unsure if Darcy was being serious. "Do you need a light?"

Darcy looked up at him and nodded, reaching into the side pocket of her bag for her cigarettes. Putting the cigarette into her mouth, she held out her hand for the lighter and instantly brought the flame to her cigarette.

Without any conversation, they walked around to the corner of the building where they had met. It was by far the most secluded corner and the least likely place in which they would get caught. Moxley leant up against the wall, sitting precariously on a tiny ledge; his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Darcy stepped over his legs and leaned against the same stone wall she had on that day, this time not afraid to look directly at him.

"This is my spot," she told him, blowing smoke from her nose.

"It's my spot, too, babe," he responded, looking down at her lazily. "I've never seen you use it."

"Likewise. We must've had different schedules up until a few weeks ago."

Moxley drawled, "We're the only two idiots here who smoke."

In the silence that followed, Darcy could hear, clearly, the burning on the end of her cigarette and the scraping of Moxley's jeans against the stone ledge. June had come much quicker than Darcy anticipated that year, leaving her with a suitcase full of inappropriately warm clothing – she had purged all of her summer clothing before moving down to Florida, leaving her with too many pairs of jeans and a few leather jackets.

Her misjudgement of the weather was something Matt had never let her live down.

"I have to bail, see you around?"

"We aren't friends, Moxley," Darcy said through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

Moxley shrugged at her, "That'll probably change pretty soon."

Darcy rolled her eyes and watched him disappear, thinking that he was insane for thinking they would ever be friends. They were acquaintances. They talked. And smoked in silence. They were not friends.

She finished two cigarettes before she decided to head back to Colby's house. The retrieval of her bag was quick and subtle – she was yet to see DeMott's reaction to her smelling of fresh cigarette smoke – and she discretely left the building through the back door.

On the way she shoved her jacket into the bag, thankful for the holes in her jeans as they provided a slight breeze on her otherwise boiling legs – the Doc Marten boots she had one did little to cool her down.

She decided that over the weekend she would go for a quick shopping tip and buy some shorts, as well as get to work designing her wrestling gear.

The idea was pretty simple – a pair of patterned tights teamed with a tank top or cropped shirt with writing printed on it, and her Doc Marten Triumph boots, the pair she'd bought as a self-congratulation gift when being signed. It was all given the go ahead by Steve Keirn and Dusty Rhodes when she came in with an example. It was all easily replicated given that the only need for a seamstress came along with her tights, her tops could be bought from any store.

When she let herself into Colby's house, Darcy was startled to hear a not-so-quiet argument between Colby and Leighla that ended the instant the door shut behind her. She furrowed her brow and walked further into the house, looking into each room as she did.

"You two okay in here?" Darcy asked hesitantly when she saw them standing by their bedroom door, neither trying to hide that they'd just been fighting. "Do I need to come back later?"

"Don't be stupid," Colby said firmly, shaking his head. Leighla however didn't say anything to Darcy, instead moving into the bedroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Is this my fault?" Darcy's question came out worried. "You know I don't want to cause trouble, Colb."

"It's not your fault, Harlequin," Colby said in the most assuring tone could muster, taking her bag from her and dropping it to the floor. "Just a small fight. They happen."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed. She had, after all, had many with Harry. "If it was... You'd tell me right? I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"You haven't even been here a month. You haven't overstayed your welcome at all."

Darcy watched as Colby moved to the living room and dropped down onto the couch. She then looked to his bedroom door and pulled her lip ring between her teeth.

Maybe she shouldn't have walked around in her underwear that morning.

* * *

**a/n thank you to _UntilNeverDawns_ and _DamnedDiva_ for reviewing :D Same as last chapter goes... 5 reviews or 2 weeks, your call guys.**


End file.
